


Butterfly, We Were Meant To Be

by Niji_Hitomi_Iscariot, Silver_Eternity



Series: The Demon King [5]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bullying, Homophobia, M/M, Macro/Micro, Magic, Non Consensual Sex Change, Non-Graphic Violence, Shapeshifting, Sounding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-13 00:10:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niji_Hitomi_Iscariot/pseuds/Niji_Hitomi_Iscariot, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Eternity/pseuds/Silver_Eternity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shinji has spent his entire life wishing he could be swept away from the ignorant, homophobic, morons that have plagued him since middle school. His only solace has been in the company of insects, specifically those that full under the order Lepidoptera. Unfortunately, that only added fuel to his tormentors' fire. Now a college sophomore, he's still wishing, and the suave foreign-exchange student seems to be the answer to his prayers. But you know what they say about wishes...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. SNAFU

**Author's Note:**

> Konnichiwa, minna! Here we are again, the beginning of the next part. I suppose you could call them arcs. lol. We get a little freaky in this, not this chapter but a little later in the arc. Nothing too major in this one though, just some average bullying violence and the mention of past abuse. Fairly typical high school BS. Also, the title comes from a poem of the same name. Unfortunately I have lost the link to where I found it and no longer remember the name of the author, but it was a powerful poem. It inspired a lot of how this arc plays out. Go read it. Anyway, enjoy! Ja ne!

 

Twenty-three-years-old. First day of Sophomore year, and abso-fucking-lutely nothing had changed. Still the freaky, odd-ball, with the sexual predator grin and fucked up interests in a body entirely too skinny to be attractive. He sighed, the same thoughts he always had running through his head. A summer at home with his mom and sister had been great, though being in that tiny Appalachian town again was like the first day of kindergarten all over again. Only this time the people around him already knew he was fucked up and weird. Talking to fucking butterflies for God's sake, how much more weird could he get? Oh right…a certain propensity for saying the wrong thing and being attracted to the wrong gender for a small town like that. It'll be better, she said. There will be more people who like the same stuff, she said. The young man snorted, his blond, straw-straight hair blowing out of his face, and he grimaced at the campus, a hand wrapped around his book-bag strap, the other in the pocket of his skinny plaid jeans.  
  
The jocks tossed a football around near the reflecting pond and just outside the door to the quad, like a pack of guard dogs intimidating anyone who wanted to enter. Their cheerleader girlfriends perched like a flock of jaybirds possessively on the fence that kept drunken idiots from falling into said reflecting pond. To the other side the computer nerds were chattering as they and the bookworms collectively entered the library-slash-computer science building. The beatnik/hippie/goths spread out across the lawn between the two pretending to be too cool and complaining about the sun, but doing nothing to get out of it. Somewhere in the distance he could hear the band geeks practicing. And the smattering of others in clusters of threes and fours dotted the pathways from where he stood at the edge of the parking lot that separated the campus from the town that had grown like a barberry hedge around the school. All in all, it meant yet another attempt at navigating the minefield of cliques and gangs that he'd been sure a year ago he'd left behind in high school. So much for that idea.  
  
Before he could do anything he was shoved. The big burly guy laughing when he had to flail to keep his balance and his bag went flying, spraying papers and pencils everywhere. Thankfully his books were still within, but his drawings, doodles of men with huge butterfly wings and butterflies with the features of human men, scattered about the path like so many leaves in the wind. He started to snarl at the behemoth but bit his tongue, knowing it wouldn't do any good, and began picking up his shit.  
  
"What, bug-boy? Ain't gonna say nothin'?" The meat head sneered, and the blond ignored him. So he turned to his friends and laughed, "Look, boys, the buggy thought ta show his face again! He must not've learned nothin' last year. Yer kind ain't welcome here, faggot."  
  
The foot that attempted to plant itself in his ribs as he bent to gather his pencils was easily avoided but it turned out his antagonist's friends decided to ring him, throwing punches and kicks in his direction. Not all of them were hard enough to hurt. Being beaten and outcast most of his life had given him, quite literally, a thick skin. So, the blows he couldn't avoid, he absorbed, until the asshole caught him across the temple. This sent him sprawling on the pavement, and he just lay there, praying the hazing would stop. As though it was an answer to his prayers, the wind changed, bringing the scent of wildflowers, and the thug sniffed.  
  
"He ain't worth it. Let's go get some burgers."  
  
The gang moved off and Shinji hunched over his bag. His drawings were ruined now, but that was fine. The same faceless man that had haunted his dreams for as long as he could remember would be easy to re-capture. He could feel the beginnings of a black eye, blood dripped down his face from where the bastard's punch had split his eyebrow, and he'd bitten his tongue at some point. Not to mention the scattering of other, more minor bruises he could feel all over his body. He sighed, yup, brand new school year, just like high school.  
  
He moved off to his poli-sci class, on the second floor of the computer science building due to the heavy amount of current events needed to complete the course. He'd just stepped into the lecture hall when he froze. There he was. The tall brunette that had transferred in from Japan in the middle of last year. Chiseled features, toned, wavy brown hair with that stubborn stray bang that either didn't want to stay tucked back or was deliberately curled forward, and eyes...deep, wise, devour-the-soul, chocolate eyes. The blond had no idea what the man's major was, or why he was even there since he looked to be about thirty, but he had been in every single one of Shinji's classes. And it appeared that would be the case again this year, too. Though Shinji had no courage to actually go up to the other male and talk to him, he was compelled to watch him, and the butterfly-man in his dreams had begun to take on his classmate's appearance. He had it bad. He didn't even know the other's name and he was dreaming about him. So, watching the brunette reading from across the room, Shinji was spell-bound.  
  
Until he was shoved for the second time that day by the same Neanderthal who'd led his gang in accosting the blond. "Move it, fairy-pants. Yer floodin' the hallway wit'cher drool."  
  
He glared, but wiped his mouth unconsciously anyway as the rest of the asshole's gang also shoved their way inside, jostling the blond back and forth with every person who passed him. He was delayed long enough that the only seat in the room was dead-center, front row, AKA 'the splash zone', where Professor Marechiyo's habit of spitting when he got excited about something usually landed. He groaned but took his seat. Class was going to be hell, especially since Professor Marechiyo generally insisted on his students maintaining the same seating arrangement all semester. He'd learned that the hard way last year, when he'd had the flamboyantly egotistical instructor for Economics 101.  
  
Abruptly, nearby, out of the splash zone, and conveniently next to that handsome older boy, a seat opened up. The student had checked his syllabus and realized he was in the wrong class, then bolted out of the room to try and make it to the correct one.  
  
He knew he shouldn't. He _knew_ it. But he damn well couldn't help himself. A year. A year of watching him invisibly, of seeing him every day, of drowning in his aura and scent. That was hard. Harder was controlling himself when his reincarnated Key was harmed. The first time he'd seen him hit by one of those thrice-cursed jocks, his eyes had dilated, his wings had dyed dark red, his claws had burst through his fingers and if Ulquiorra and Grimmjow hadn't been with him to search out the one he'd come to know and love as Shinji Hirako, he would have torn the foolish mortals to shreds. As it was, between the two of them they had barely held him back. Grimmjow's ribs were still tender even after Ichigo had reversed the damage.  
  
Still, he could not resist opening a chair next to him and enticing his mate over. After a year, he had reached the end of his patience. It was time to really get to know each other and no better time to start than as soon as possible.  
  
Shinji looked up from his notebook, where once again he was sketching, as the boy rushed out of the room. The brunette beckoned him over, dark brown eyes seeming to glitter for just a moment before returning to calm. Glancing at the door, then at the seat vacated, the blond bolted, double-quick out of the splash zone. He had all of two seconds to get there before Professor Marechiyo burst through the door to his office with a large grin and a loud greeting.  
  
"Welcome, peons, to Political Science! If you survived my Economics, I'm sure you only did so because of my amazing skills at teaching something to your brainless selves. Don't expect me to be that easy on you this term. Not a single one of you is has even half the potential I had when I sat in those seats." The instructor continued on a long-winded rant, punctuated by proclamations of just how awesome he was, and thoroughly coating the seat Shinji had just vacated, for the next several minutes.  
  
In his new seat, the blond chanced a look at the amazing male next to him. He flushed deeply pink and immediately went back to sketching. When the syllabus was passed around for everyone to sign and take a copy, he had to twist to take it from the girl behind him, leaving visible for all the world to see the intensely detailed image of the man with the butterfly wings reaching out of the page as if to caress the audience.  
  
Aizen couldn't stop himself from reaching out to touch it. It looked, so much like...like him. Like his _true_ self. His fingers, though light, left telltale smudges when he quickly withdrew his hand as Shinji came back around. He had already tuned out the worthless professor—he knew more than that puffed-up plebian could even begin to conceive. However, being seen touching his sketches, which so many others had ravaged and destroyed, would not endear him to his mate.  
  
Shinji frowned at the place where the design was blurred. He didn't remember doing that, but he tilted his head, first one way, then the other. All at once, he reached out and duplicated the smudge on the opposite side of the drawing, making the edges of the creature's wings appear to be fluttering, or possibly like there was dust floating free of the softly swirling appendages. He smiled, and almost signed it, but was cut off by the obnoxious voice of his professor.  
  
"Shinji Hirako! Well, well, well. Drawing in my class again, I see."  
  
Thick, oiled-soft fingers clenched the edge of the sketch and tore the page from the book so he could hold it up to his face, which was just as oily. The blond cringed, unconsciously trying to sink into his chair as the instructor sneered at it. The black-haired balding man shook his head, and shoved the artwork back down onto the desk, further smudging the soft pencil. As the hefty male turned to make his way back up to the front of the classroom, most of the class snickered. The ones who remembered him from the year before sneered, whispering behind their hands about the way he stood out before.  
  
"Just make sure you pay attention to me this term. I don't care how talented you are, if you're in my class, you obviously can't stack up to me."  
  
Shinji wished he could fall into the ground and disappear.  
  
That was _it_ , he had sat quietly through this pompous ass's class without saying a damn word last year, but for the love of the Heirs he _was not going to keep his mouth shut now_. Not when the fucker insulted his mate! He stood up, and his eyes were hard. Cold. Angry. His voice, on the other hand, was silky. Smooth. Pleasant even. "I do hate to interrupt, _Professor_ ," in spite of the silk, the word was dripping in sarcasm, "but it has been scientifically proven that for active minds, drawing, sketching, doodling, and scribbling cause significant memory improvement by causing them to associate the auditory information they take in to images or feelings. The more associations, the easier it is to remember."  
  
His eyes were dilating. This man's mind was fucking _sludge_ , but he would not make fun of his mate again, even if he had to Imprint his will upon him. "Just as you remember perfectly every detail of your brother humiliating you in front of your entire college class during your first semester, don't you, Professor." This last was added in a low voice, with vicious surgical precision to hurt the man, not meant for the class to hear. Except for Shinji, who was so close there was no avoiding him hearing the meticulously-aimed barb.  
  
Shinji and the other students that were one desk away from the handsome brunette all gasped, while the instructor fish-mouthed for a moment. Then he cleared his throat, composing himself. "Yes, well, genius tends to draw in genius. I am not at all surprised that Mr. Hirako would doodle in my class, nor that he would find a defender in yourself, Mr. Aizen."  
  
The teacher retreated quickly, and Shinji stared, while all around them whispers carried both the truth and the implications of such an action from their cluster of seats to the far side of the room where the jocks who had delivered the first of this year's hazing on him were sitting. Glares from the small-minded males cut across the room, and whispers headed back about how in trouble both boys were now going to be. It took nearly fifteen minutes for Professor Marechiyo to regain control of the class, and by then he had nearly lost all of his temper, assigning them mountains of reading work and research to be done before the next class in three days. Then he dismissed them and it was a stampede to get out of the lecture hall so each and every one of those buzzing dayflies could be the first in their respective cliques to share this juicy gossip.  
  
Shinji still stared. He hadn't even bothered to write down what he needed to have completed. He'd be reading the textbook anyway. But the boy...Aizen?...had stood up for him. Spoken out against the teacher for him. He must be one of those ass-kissers, right? It couldn't possibly be because of Shinji himself. He was sure of it. Nobody stood up for him. Ever. It just didn't happen.  
  
Aizen didn't even get off his chair, merely turned and picked up the ruined portrait. "I can't believe how badly he damaged this," he murmured with genuine regret. "Dear Abyss. Does the man bathe in oil instead of water? It was so lifelike," he mourned.  
  
With that delicate little bit of smudging, it really _had_ looked so real, so accurate...He returned it to Shinji's book with a deep sigh and turned, giving a bit of an embarrassed blush.  
  
"I'm sorry, I went off on a tangent and didn't even introduce myself. My name is, as you heard, Aizen. Aizen Sousuke, or, I suppose, Sousuke Aizen in English." He offered his hand with more grace and poise than he felt in his heart. "And you're Hi- err, Shinji Hirako?"  
  
Shinji took the offered hand, feeling like he was dreaming. His mouth had gone dry. "Y-yeah. Shinji Hirako. After my dad. He was...uh...Japanese. A-and don't...I mean, about the picture...I...I'm used to drawing him."  
  
He realized he was still shaking the man's hand, and quickly withdrew himself. He rushed to gather his things together, his nerves making his hands shake. He knocked over the chair to the desk, and dropped his sketchbook. Once again the drawings, in every media he could carry with him, spilled out across the floor. Dozens of images, all of them meticulously done with intense details so real it looked like the creature would jump off the page, and most of them were in some state of being ruined. Water spots, wrinkles, tears, smudges. Almost all of them had been partially destroyed. The blond's hand shot out to try and catch them but each and every one slipped through his fingers.  
  
"Oh goodness, here, I'll help," Aizen said, laying his hands on Shinji's hips and lifting him onto the desk, telling him, "You just sit here and get all your things together while I collect these lovely, if damaged, art pieces."  
  
His voice was dark and sweet, almost seductive, though he didn't mean to be. He then bent and started to pick up each sheet of paper one by one, his lovely muscled ass on display in his customary dress slacks. When he'd gathered them all, he straightened up again and brought them back to Shinji.  
  
All the blond could do was blink, accepting his precious drawings when they were offered. "Th-thank you. I...uh...why are you talking to me?" He flushed deeply. He sucked royally at conversations with new people. "Wait...I mean...uh..."  
  
The brunette chuckled and said, gently. "I think I know what you mean. I've been noticing the way people treat you and I find it atrocious. I want to change it. You're a wonderful artist, and an amazingly cheerful person considering how often life throws irritating little shits in your path. I don't want them to kill that part of you. Well, that and a purely selfish reason," he added with a little grin and a little eyebrow wriggle, "I find you rather attractive and I couldn't wait any longer to make a move."  
  
It took all of a moment for the mask to slide over his face, and Shinji grinned, hopping off the desk. He looked up at the brunette with the kind of seduction that he used on those he wanted to keep at arms' length. His voice was teasing, and carried a note of humor that didn't quite cover the fact that he meant the exact opposite of what he said.  
  
"And here I thought ya were blind."  
  
Though his grin stretched from ear to ear, his eyes remained hard. In fact, harder than they had been during that interlude where he'd been wide open. Internally he was berating himself for even allowing that much of his normal facade to fall away. Then he was twirling with his backpack and sketchbook and strutting out of the room. Being that close to his crush was difficult to begin with, but to hear words that he was sure were simply platitudes to try and set him up, he couldn't bear it. He had to get away and find some flowers. He had things on his chest he had to vent, and to do that he needed to find a place that reminded him of the field behind his home in that small town where he'd grown up talking to butterflies in all kinds of weather, because that field always had butterflies, even in the middle of winter.  
  
"Wait!"  
  
God damn it, where did his usual charm go? Oh right, directly out the window the second he got within touching distance of his mate. He carried nothing—he never did—so it was relatively easy to scramble after him, so fast he must have Flit for a moment, because the next thing he knew he was running directly into him and tripping them both up. He instinctively tucked the smaller body into his own and turned so his own back hit the floor first, cursing viciously in German when he felt his illusion-covered wing joints crunch.  
  
"Shit, sorry, Shinji, I didn't mean to knock you over. Are you alright?" Wing joints could regrow—he hadn't hurt his mate, had he?!  
  
This was not a promising start. Damn it! He needed his usual charms, but he _refused_ to use those parlor tricks on his mate. He didn't like his mate hiding from him. Though for a human it was a remarkably thorough illusion, he was against the Illusory Master. Aizen saw through it like paper, saw to the hurt and anger beneath. He couldn't stand to let it fester and grow.  
  
The blond blinked down at the taller male. Then he was back up on his feet in a quick jump with the flash of that same smile, though the corner ticked a little. "O' course."  
  
He stepped over Aizen, grabbed his sketchbook for a third time from the ground, and tucked the thing into his book-bag. He really should have learned long ago to do that every time he stood up, but he always forgot. And he fought down the irritated scowl that threatened to break his mask. So, to cover the imperfections in his stance, he flipped his pageboy-length hair with the hand that wasn't slinging his bag over his shoulder.  
  
"Dunno why ya wanna follow me, but if that pompous windbag is th' same as last year, we've got a shitton o' homework ta do b'fore Thursday. So, I'm headin' out ta git started. An'...heh...if ya wanna avoid rumors, ya probably should cover that up a bit better. People don't like fairies 'round here."  
  
Aizen's heart stopped. Fairy?! _He could see?!_


	2. Same S*** Different Day, Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I'm sorry to anybody who likes the antagonist here, I had to make someone the villain. XD Secondly, kudos and love to anyone who can guess who the unnamed characters are in this chapter. There are 3. Two are directly spoken to, and one is mentioned in narration. Best of luck, and enjoy! Ja ne!

Both hands darted up to his head—to his _feelers_ since his wings were flattened against his skin under his shirt—and pressed them down into his hair nervously as he also rose to his feet. "Cover…cover up what, exactly?"  
  
He couldn't quite keep the waver from his tone. If Shinji could already see him, see the real him, and was rejecting him...for the love of the King, let him be wrong for once in his life.  
  
"Yer preference." The blond frowned, "Oi, did I headbutt ya?"  
  
He felt his own head. It wouldn't have been the first time that he'd done something with his skull and not felt it. His mother chalked it up to his habit of sitting upside down on the couch whenever he was watching TV. All the blood rushing to his head made his vision go fuzzy, which meant real life looked more like the images in his dreams, but his mom said that it had made his skull so thick that he could crack concrete.  
  
The brunette relaxed and breathed, letting go of his poor feelers. Oooh, he'd need to straighten those out later, they were all bent in the middle. "Oh, _that_ …well I don't give a shit who knows my preference," he said with a little sniff. "If they don't like it, they can go suck rotten turtle eggs. And you didn't headbutt me, it was the concrete," he assured, rubbing his now-throbbing temples—the drawbacks of sensitive feelers..."But, er, about the—did you say pompous windbag? Most fitting…I have memorized the text so I don't have to listen to a word the foul narcissist says. Might I offer my brain for your picking and we can do the assigned work together?"  
  
Shinji desperately tried not to choke on his own tongue, leaning heavily on his persona as a flirt and a playboy, "Aww, cutey, brawn _and_ brains, how sweet. But seriously," he cocked his hip, smirking with more confidence than he really felt, "ya should care a little more 'bout yer rep. Ya can't jus' go askin' anybody ta be yer study partner. If ya aren't careful, y'ill wind up wi' only that option, an' trust me when I say ya don' wanna be stuck wi' me."  
  
That was something of a lie, because very few people were smarter or better academically than Shinji at that dinky back-water college, but he knew the second that the handsome other found out about his habits, he'd turn tail. It really was for the best if the older male attached himself to someone who could actually be seen in public without risk of repercussions.  
  
Aizen raised an eyebrow, some of his usual poise returning. He reached out and felt Shinji's forehead with the back of his hand, then frowned and mock tsked. "Nope, no fever...so you're not ill. That must mean you're trying to pull one over on me. I would say you were being stupid, but I know for a fact you're much too intelligent. Therefore," he folded his arms over his chest, "you must be trying to trick me into choosing an inferior study partner. I am...very selective of whom I desire to keep company with, Shinji. Generally speaking, I have little tolerance for the unintelligent; I therefore search out the smartest people I can find, and choose from that small pool. You are the only person on this campus," in all honesty on this continent, but he wasn't going to say that, "I am interested in keeping company with. The rest of this university can go _schtup_ itself."  
  
Uncertain whether the tall brunette was confused or being absolutely honest, Shinji couldn't come up with a snarky comment. So, he shrugged and turned towards the on-campus coffee shop. "I dunno 'bout you, but I can't digest anythin' Prof. Mary comes up with, without caffeine. If yer comin', c'mon. Th' sooner we git outta th' open the—"  
  
In taking that first step, he was cut off by the wall of muscle in his way. "Well, well, well. If it ain't th' fairy. What's this? Yer infectin' th' other students now? Thought we told ya that yer kind weren't welcome here. That means whatever cooties ya used ta spread yer d'sease, ya need ta git rid of it. Can't have ya turnin' others fruity. Next thing m' boys an' me'll know we'll be in th' locker room an' yer cooties'll make it imposs'ble ta change b'fore th' game."  
  
Meatlug poked a fat finger into Shinji's already bruised shoulder.  
  
"Look, Ginjou, I don't want trouble. I just wanna get my coffee an' get home ta study. Can I do that this time? Please?" He tried to sound bored, but really the last thing he wasn't to do was risk his crush falling under those thick, simian-like fists.  
  
"Y'hear that, boys? Th' fairy 'jus' wants 'is coffee'." The gang jeered and laughed, Ginjou pushed him again. "I dun' remember tellin' ya that ya could buy anythin' from here. Who knows, yer gay might rub off on yer money."  
  
"Shinji-san has not 'infected' me with anything," Aizen growled and beyond his control, brown irises turned to feral slits as his claws came out of his fingernails in preparation for the battle he could already feel coming. "Homosexuality is not a _disease_. It cannot be transmitted through contact and it is not an airborne virus like the flu. And if Shinji-san wants to get some caffeine before going home to study, he can damn well get some," his voice was almost a hiss. "I do not suffer fools lightly, Kuugo, and you have just displayed an ignorance level so high I am tempted to rearrange your organs in an attempt to see if perhaps your liver has more capable intelligent functions than your brain."  
  
After his Shinji nearly leaving him, he was already on edge, and this just pushed him closer to stooping to physical violence. He preferred to use his words, mind and illusions if he could, but for anyone this stupid, he had no compulsions about throwing away his morals to beat them into a bloody pulp.  
  
"Oi. So ya are a fuckin' fairy, jus' like th' other one, Jappy?" Ginjou sneered, puffing out his chest. "Figures. Pretty boy like you? Bet all yer lookin' fer here is a piece o' tail ya c'n bang in th' Stacks."  
  
The rest of his gang, five other equally burly, thick-headed males ranging from nineteen to twenty-five, joined in jeering Aizen in all ways from his sexuality to his appearance to his heritage, as they not-too-subtly formed a ring around the pair. Cracking knuckles and scuffing shoes were heard as others rolled their shoulders, all limbering up for what they hoped would be an epic beating. Shinji looked around at them, his back to Aizen, and shivered slightly. He'd faced this group more times than he could count and he really didn't want to see their brass knuckles and steel-toed boots pounding into the handsome male who'd only made the mistake of talking to him.  
  
"Give it a rest, Ginjou. He's got nothin' ta do with this." The blond insisted.  
  
"Fuck that, fudgepacker. He stepped b'tween me an' my fun. He's gotta pay fer bein' that stupid." The burly brunette sneered again, the sunlight glinting off the silver cross hanging around his neck.  
  
Aizen counted himself lucky that his back was to his mate because he couldn't stop the flicker of his illusion for a few moments if he tried. He smiled, and it was not, exactly, a smile. It was more like a Grimmjow Grin™ combined with a Gin Smirk™ with a mouthful of shark teeth thrown in. Every tooth was deadly sharp, and the corners of his mouth stretched further than any human's ever should. It was a frightening thing, but they'd done it. They had successfully riled him. Woken it up. His demonic side, the embodiment of violence, was up and eager to show these foolish mortals what a man of his caliber could do when pressed.  
  
He reached forward, almost too fast to see, and took hold of that cross with a silent reinforcement spell put into place to make sure when he made his next move the chain it hung on wouldn't snap.  
  
"Stupid, eh? Fairy? Lookin' fer tail?"  
  
His voice grated like a rusty hinge as his cultured manners fell away. They were wasted on the likes of these. No, this lot deserved every ounce of human street rat he had. He yanked on the cross, hard, so hard the taller man was forced to bend if he didn't want to get choked as the metal of the chain bit into his skin.  
  
"If Ah'm th' stupid one, chil', how'z it yer th' one dun know how ta pick yer battles, eh?"  
  
"Kill 'em!" Ginjou snarled, trying to seem the big, tough gang-leader he had been moments before, though his heartbeat had increased and sweat was beginning to pour down his back, in spite of the chill in the air.  
  
The other five jumped at Shinji, who ducked and rolled to avoid getting hit, but still tried his hardest to keep them off of the boy he was starting to think of as his friend. Punches were swung, kicks missed and landed, bodies crashing together, each in the attempt to cull the blond from the brunette, in spite of Shinji's topsy-turvy, upside down fighting style.  
  
Aizen's fist wound the chain tighter and that hand seized Ginjou's neck, the other taking his belt. Then, as if the massive man weight no more than five pounds, he lifted him off the floor, whirled, and used him like a hammer to bowl over the ones attempting to hit Shinji. Releasing the useless sack of meat, he flew into the remaining two like a bowling ball aimed for pins. Then he lashed out—feet, fists, it didn't much matter what he hit him with as long as he made them _hurt_ , made them _bleed_. He socked one in the jaw, kicked another in the knee. One had managed to latch onto Shinji with one hand and Aizen grabbed the wrist of that offensive hand _touching his mate_ and pinched so hard the man's nerves screamed and forced him to let go. He then, still gripping his wrist, bent just enough to swing the man like a sack on a string and sent him crashing, side-first, into a nearby tree trunk. Grinning that murderous, horrifying smile of sharp teeth yet again, he gestured the others on.  
  
"Come'n git schooled, bitches!"  
  
The force with which Shinji was released made the slim blond fall to his rump, blinking up at Aizen, who was standing over him—defending him. "Wow..."  
  
Ginjou recovered before any of the others, and wielding the messenger bag from his shoulder like a flail, he launched himself at the brunette. The others fell back, nursing injuries and looking fairly pathetic, but not their gang-leader. He roared in outrage.  
  
Aizen blocked the bag with his left arm and twisted at the last moment to kick Ginjou in the gut—the man's own force caused him to double over, choking on bile as lungs, diaphragm, and stomach all rebelled in agony. A second kick to his chest sent him flying back. Aizen had to forcibly remind himself that the fucker was human, and needed to catch his breath or he'd suffocate and die. Stupidly fragile, humans. It was a wonder they ever fought at all. His still feral eyes darted up to the 'backup', daring, begging one to come forward. He wasn't done with them! He wanted a reason, any reason, an excuse to pummel them some more!  
  
"MAH! Ginjou!" His second in command, a tall, skinny guy with strange heart-shaped sunglasses, wailed. "You two catch him. We aren't equipped to deal with Jujutsu."  
  
The two indicated each grabbed one of the burly gangleader's arms, and the whole group of them turned tail, running like the scared dogs they were. The second in command wasn't that far behind them, but he paused long enough to call over his shoulder.  
  
"Just you two wait! We'll get Chad! He'll show you two what you get for messing with us!"  
  
Shinji shook his head, and laughed a little. "Wow...you're really good. How come I never saw you at the competitions last year?"  
  
Aizen sniffed, dusting off his pants and shirt as though they were dirty, though he'd never been knocked down, and held out a hand to help Shinji up. "Competitions? What competitions? And what was he talking about?"  
  
The touch of their hands as the blond accepted the help was electrifying. "Hai! Jujutsu. It's a form of martial arts. And the team competes all across the country. I'm their waterboy for now. My mom never liked the idea of me fighting. So, I'm rather behind everyone else, but I'm learning."  
  
What he didn't say, as he too brushed himself off and re-shouldered his bag, was that the way he was learning was by watching the team spar and practice together, always from the outside and never with any actual instruction. The sensei didn't even know he had an interest in it, because the last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself. So he practiced the katas when nobody was watching, and ran errands for the team the rest of the time.  
  
"Well, I, for one, believe that everyone should know how to defend themselves," Aizen replied firmly, patting at a few spots of dirt Shinji couldn't reach on his back. "As for what I just did…it…er…wasn't exactly martial arts." A light flush painted itself across his cheeks. "That was mostly street-brawling. Completely undisciplined and no-holds-barred. I have to admit, I was—I am—enraged by the way they've been treating you for over a year. This was payback."  
  
"Oi. What makes you think I can't defend myself?" Shinji jutted his chin out at the taller male and crossed his arms over his chest. "Six against one isn't exactly fair odds, y'know."  
  
"You have never, in over a year, hit back," he said simply. "You dodge excellently, but you do not retaliate. The only logical reason is because you don't know how to fight them. If you did, you would have…because nobody can tolerate an idiot like Ginjou throwing such insults their way for long. I'm an example. I haven't blown my top like that in years..." he smoothed his hair back and cleared his throat. "And I suppose, given the violence I've just displayed, I cannot fault you if you do not want to...associate with me."  
  
"Are you kidding? That was awesome!" Shinji grinned, then sobered and scuffed the ground with his shoe. "And I know how to fight back...I just don't. I'm a pacifist. I hate violence. Fighting just leads to more fighting. Mahatma Ghandi once said 'an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind'. I'm happy just knowing how to dodge. Eventually they'll get tired and find someone else to pick on. I just turn the other cheek until then."  
  
Aizen's eyebrow rose. "Well…'In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is King', so I suppose you're the better man between us and will one day rule us all," he said smoothly, with a smile that was nothing like the demonic thing he'd used on the gang. "There's nothing wrong with avoiding violence. However, I would be more comfortable knowing personally that you know how to defend yourself, so," he hooked his arm with the slimmer one and started to walk. "Kindly show me this 'jujutsu club'. Then you and I can learn together and practice with each other."  
  
"Uh...okay."  
  
The blond's grin became lop-sided as his mask slipped a fraction, and he directed them to the athletic building, for once not dreading the walk past all of the cliques and groups. He was so absorbed in just being with Aizen that he didn't even hear the undercurrent of murmurs following the pair across the campus accompanied by not-so-subtle pointing and blatant staring. The overall attitude was shock, with a mixture of pity and disdain. How could the handsome transfer student be at all interested in the campus freak?  
  
"Well, also, there's a second, far more pleasant aspect to learning how to fight," Aizen added in a stage whisper. "Don't go telling people, but some men _actually like_ knowing the man who has willingly prostrated himself to sucking their cock so well that their eyes cross has the physical power and capability to throw them across the room," he confided, deliberately letting himself shiver. Every part of him, demon and human, loved having a partner balanced in strength and intelligence.  
  
"So that's yer motive then." Shinji leered. "What makes ya think I can't already do that?"  
  
"Shinji-san, no offense, but could you pick up a man the size of Ginjou and throw him? He's twice your size, and you've already mentioned you've just started learning this 'Jujutsu'." Aizen raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Eh...no. But yer not as big as Gin-joke is." The blond spit the man's butchered name. "An' besides I wouldn't waste my energy on trash like him, even if I could throw him across a room."  
  
He rolled his shoulders and looked away. Damn the brunette for being able to see past his act. He knew the basics of how to throw someone that grabbed him, but not enough to really use it in a fight unless his opponent was in just the right angle.  
  
"So then you ought to learn," the taller man said with a little grin. "And true, no point in wasting energy on a fucknut like him when a crotch-shot will do the job just as well and cause a hell of a lot more pain," he added with a positively sadistic grin before he coughed and blushed. "That came out sounding rather twisted, didn't it? Who would even want to touch that brute's crotch, even for the purpose of causing him pain?"  
  
Shinji giggled, leaning on the door to the gym. "That's if the steroids he's used haven't shriveled it up ta be smaller than a vagoo, ne?" He winked, and opened the door, calling into the open area, "Oi! Sensei!? I've brought you a new fighter!"  
  
Aizen was still laughing from Shinji's comment, and wrapped an arm around Shinji's shoulders. "Yes, Sensei, this one says that I apparently belong on the 'Jujutsu' team. Since I have no idea what the hell he's talking about, I demand he be the one to teach me," he grinned.  
  
"That so?" The light of the basketball lights shone off the bald head that leaned out of the coaches' office. "Shinji, what shitty fag have you picked up this time?"  
  
"He ain't shitty, Sensei! Ya should've seen what he did ta Ginjou!" The blond grinned, honest and open this time. It was clear this man, somewhere in his late forties, was one of the few people on campus that accepted Shinji for who and what he was.  
  
Dressed in hakama and an open kosode draped around his shoulders, the sensei stepped out onto the floor of the basketball court; his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes squinted, with bright red kabuki marks on the outer corners, and he shifted the toothpick he held in his teeth from one side to the other, before spitting it out at the wall, and crossing to a set of already-spread out floor mats. "Alright, newbie, show me what ya've got, and maybe I'll let Blondie teach ya something."  
  
Again, Aizen raised a brunette eyebrow. "...what exactly do you want me to do? I rather brawled like a street-rat with Ginjou. Forgive my language, but he pissed me the fuck off. That does not happen often. So what are you asking? You want me to just attack you?"  
  
The sensei sniffed, looking the taller boy up and down from head to toe. "Yah, just attack me. I wanna see how strong you are. You already told me, you've got no idea what Jujutsu is."  
  
Aizen looked at the man. Tall, solidly built. Muscled without being steroid induced. He launched himself at the coach, hands grabbing onto his shoulders, and flipped his body over the bald head to land on the other side, dragging the heavy man with him and using his weight to flip him over entirely, crouching and using his own back like the center on a see-saw to pull the man down until he hit the cushion on the floor.  
  
The sensei grinned a feral expression that was all too familiar, and wrapped his own legs around the brunette's so that as they hit the mat they rolled, deflecting most of the impact and springing both of them back up onto their feet again. The kosode flew up into the air and the bald man's foot lashed out to hook Aizen's neck as he bent to spin on his hand, bringing the brunette around to the side, aiming to land on his back on the mats.  
  
"Ah, by Grimmjow's fuzzy ass, Blondie was right 'bout ya."  
  
Aizen hands caught himself and he shoved, the force allowing him to bounce back onto his feet, neck aching from where it had been hooked as he dropped and kicked the bald man square in the back of the knee— _this_ was a _fight_!  
  
"Oh yeah?" He wasn't even out of breath. "How on earth do you know that Grimmjow's ass is fuzzy? Hell, how do you know who _Grimmjow_ is?" His knee came up and hit the man in the hip, making them both wince when bone hit bone.  
  
Allowing his legs to buckle gave the sensei the opportunity to jump away from the impact on his hip, again using his hand to pivot himself around, this time low to the ground in a leg sweep that was easily jumped over but provided the opening for his other hand to grab Aizen's shirt and launch himself back up into the brunette's face. He laughed, hot breath spilling between them.  
  
"Any fighter worth his spit knows Grimmjow, and his brother, Renji, Gods of Conflict. S' why offense is blue an' defense is red. An' his ass is fuzzy cuz he's a goddamned cat. They both are. Why? What's it to you, boy?"  
  
The weight of their impact landed the both of them on the floor, sensei on top of Aizen, but the brunette had the older man's legs pinned beneath him. Neither could get up without someone submitting to the other. So, the sensei, being the instructor between the two, and really fearing what his other half would say should he get in trouble with the dean again, released his hold on the brunette, and wriggled back and away with a bow of respect.  
  
Aizen also gave a bow of respect as he rose, breathing deep. "Because I am also familiar with them, albeit in a different way," he said with a slight grin. "And just for your information, they're so far from brothers it's truly amusing to hear them called that. Especially Renji as the god of defense," he snorted.  
  
Renji? Defense? Not unless sensei's policy was 'the best defense is a good offense'. When he stood, he righted his hair and gave a little cough. "If anyone should be a god for defense, it ought to be Renji's _husband_ , Gin. Little illusionist fox is excellent at diverting his husband's violence."  
  
The sensei on the other hand righted his kosode on his shoulders and sniffed. "Ya might be right, I'm not big on th' readin' thing Shin-chan's inta. But yer good enough ta make the team. First practice is at five tamorrah. Don' be late." And he walked off, leaving the two alone again.  
  
"Mah, Sousuke, ya sound like ya know 'em personally." Shinji frowned, curious.  
  
Aizen chuckled. "You could say that," he replied. "I am...intimately familiar with a number of facts and legends, enough to comfortably say I know them very well." He once again went to his mate with a suggestive grin. "So…what would you like to do now?"  
  
Shinji merely laughed and waved him to follow, leading the brunette back out into the fading sunlight to finally get to their homework.            


	3. Moth-man To The Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some warnings for this chapter, we've got some almost non-con and Aizen-style revenge for it; and implications of micro/macro lemon, which is coming in the next chapter. So, you're warned now, if you don't like it, skip the next one. Otherwise, enjoy. Ja ne!
> 
> NOW WITH FANART!!! http://fav.me/d66swbb

Almost three months later, things appeared to be 180 degrees better. Though it was cheating somewhat because of his demonic strength that could only be held back so far, Aizen quickly became the captain of the Jujutsu team, directly under Ikkaku-sensei's instruction. His own popularity sky-rocketed, and though rumors about the slim blond that was never far from his side circulated all over campus, only once had it ever been brought up to the brunette. The response received was said to have been so vicious that the cheerleader who'd propositioned the tall martial artist was still having nightmares about it. She could be seen stumbling from class to class murmuring, 'he wouldn't stop smiling'. So, all in all everything looked to be wonderful, but things were not always what they seemed.  
  
Another day, another trial, as Shinji found himself pinned painfully up against the wall of the boys' bathroom in the library. His hands were trapped at his zipper, the teeth caught between his fingers in a desperate attempt to keep the metal from cutting into his already bruised manhood. When the thick meaty hand grabbed the back of his neck, he'd been in the middle of peeing, so the plumbing of the urinal had met his pelvis as he'd been harshly shoved against the wall. Now, he was trying not to think about the kinds of things that could be on those cinderblocks that his face was pressed against.  
  
"Wh-what do you want, Ginjou?" He stammered, teeth grinding against his cheek.  
  
He felt the Neanderthal's other hand roughly tug at his skinny jeans, pale green this time, and expose his ass. A throaty chuckle echoed in the cold room. "Well," He drew out the word, fondling the pale orb of flesh bruisingly. "I heard ya like ta fuck th' captains of sports teams. Bein' the football captain, I thought ya'd like ta congratulate me on our championship win th' other night."  
  
A jean-clad hardness was press against his crack and Shinji couldn't do anything but squirm as cold, mind-numbing fear gripped his heart. "N-no, please! A-anything but that!"  
  
It ground against him again, "What'sa matter, faggot? I thought alla yer kind liked it up th' ass?"  
  
Shinji closed his eyes as that painful hand left his flesh and the sound of a zipper being pulled down reached his ears. 'Please, you listened before, whatever god is out there, please don't let him rape me.' His mental voice cried out into the cosmos in desperation as terror stole his tongue.  
  
There wasn't any human explanation for what happened next. There was suddenly a hand grabbing Ginjou's collar and he was being shoved against the wall. Aizen was there, though he should've been across campus, eyes once again feral slits, and he was using unholy strength to shove the other man into the stone, snarling viciously. He didn't even have the presence of mind to use a spell.  
  
 _YOU WILL NOT TOUCH HIM!_ he roared in his not-voice, forcibly impressing his will upon the bully, imprinting it into his soul—this man would never lay another hand on his Shinji. Not if he had to _cut them off_. Wait! There was an idea! He thought rape was funny? See how he liked it when it was _him_ under threat of rape!  
  
 _Your form doesn't fit, your sex reversed shall be, this is what I will and so mote it be!_ It had none of the elegance of a spell he hadn't made on the spot, but damn if it didn't get the job done.  
  
He let go of Ginjou as the jock's body writhed, his skin bubbled, hips gaining curves, mounds of flesh forming on his chest, hair lengthening even as the bulge in his shorts disappeared. Aizen watched with vicious satisfaction—see how that disgusting filth of a man liked being a woman! Then he turned to Shinji.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
"Y-you!" Shinji was crumpled on the floor, his jeans ruined, but covering his modesty. "You...spoke...without...it was YOU!"  
  
Tension hung in the air a moment, as Ginjou's transformation finished and the former male screamed unholy terror, dashing out of the bathroom like the hounds of hell were on his—no, her tail. All the while Shinji stared up at the brunette he thought he'd gotten to know, seeing something he wasn't entirely sure was there. Wings? Feelers? Could it be? It shimmered in the light from the small windows at the top of the outside wall, but where the sunlight landed on the man he hoped to become his first boyfriend, a form completely different appeared. A figure that he'd thought only existed in his dreams and sketchbooks.  
  
Aizen's feelers curled in and his wings fluttered nervously. "I…me? Um, what do...?"  
  
He had been worried about Shinji, but now he was realizing he'd probably revealed himself. Shit! He hadn't gotten the blond comfortable enough with him yet, and then to spring this on him? Oh he'd be lucky if the man didn't decide he was a hallucination and disappear!  
  
"Y-you're that...the...from before...in my dreams...with the snake." Shinji stammered walking himself back to his feet along the wall, too in shock to notice he looked terrified.  
  
Aizen swallowed hard. "Y-you remember?"  
  
His voice was small. He was starting to feel small. He'd scared his mate, and that was the last thing he wanted to do! It made him feel like dirt, it made him feel young and stupid, it made him feel like—With a _poof_ Aizen disappeared, clothes falling into a crumpled heap on the floor. All that was left was a tiny, unnoticed chocolate-colored caterpillar on top of the white shirt.  
  
"W-wait!" Shinji cried out, but it was too late. He hastily refastened his jeans and stumbled toward the spot where the brunette had been moments before to fall to his knees next to the abandoned clothing. His voice was soft, sad, and lonely, as he stared at the shirt. "Don't go..." He sniffed and wrapped his arms around his ribs, "Great goin', Freakshow, jus' scare 'im off why don't ya. Every single fuckin' time. College'll be better, she said. Y'ill meet friends there, she said. Bah! Not if I keep doin' th' same shit I did in high school."  
  
Gathering up the clothing, because at the very least, he'll could still smell the brunette's scent in it, Shinji climbed back to his feet and exited the bathroom. He crossed through the library as quickly and as quietly as he could, shoulders bent and avoiding all contact. Once outside in the crisp, almost winter air, and sunshine he noticed the little caterpillar crawling across the shirt, fuzzy and shivering.  
  
"How'd you git there?" He pondered for a moment, but continued talking, out of habit. "Yer lucky yah know that? All ya gotta do is eat, sleep, an' someday when yer big enough..." He looked up at the sky with a mournful sigh, "Someday y'ill fly."

  
His walk toward the edge of campus brought him close to a stand of evergreen bushes, and with the utmost care and gentleness Shinji lifted the baby insect onto a branch fairly high up and covered with plump, juicy needles.  
  
"Here, mebbe y'ill have better luck 'n me. At least, it's better'n a smelly college bathroom."  
  
He watched it for a short while, feeling that same awkward unfinished feeling he always had about himself, like he was the one crawling along on his belly waiting for the day to fly. The feeling of fitting in he'd just started to get used to hanging around with Aizen made being alone right then all the more painful, and he couldn't stop the fat tear that escaped down his cheek at the thought that he'd never see the brunette ever again.  
  
Abruptly, there was a flash of light, an explosion of violent, vibrant color. A rainbow, tiny but perfect, appeared in front of his face from where he'd set the caterpillar, and abruptly there was a miniature Aizen hovering in front of his nose. Only about eight inches tall, he was a perfect miniature man, with three distinct differences—one, he had rainbow-colored butterfly wings attached to his back; two, he had long feelers on his forehead; and three, instead of feet his legs ended in a single point with flexible spines starting at about mid-calf.  
  
"Shinji Hirako, you did not scare me off! Further, I don't ever, EVER want to hear you call yourself Freakshow again…" he paused, tugging on a lock of golden hair to make sure the blond was paying attention to what he was saying and not just going 'ooooohhhh lookit the pretty fairy'. He'd had that happen more than once and it was humiliating. "You are beautiful, and intelligent, and optimistic and wonderful, and if you ever call yourself that again I will magically bind your tongue so you can't say those two words at all, much less as a conjoined term!" He finished, hands on his hips and feelers making his attempted stern look only come out adorable and pouty. His wings were a buzzing blur, he was so angry. How dare his mate think so low of himself?!  
  
"Whoa what?!" Shinji backpedaled, throwing the clothing up into the air to land around him in a halo of fabric as he, himself, once again landed on his rear end. He did that entirely too much for his taste, especially as a pair of well-made, navy boxers landed across his head, causing him to sputter and blush furiously, ripping the article of clothing from his hair, only to drop it like it was made of acid. "I...wow...I really am crazy."  
  
"Hardly!" Aizen protested before shivering. "...be right back." He darted into the bushes and returned a few moments later with a crude leaf loincloth. "Christ it's cold being a bug. And I haven't turned myself into a caterpillar since I was in short pants, for the King's sake," he muttered as he flew once more in front of Shinji's nose. "But I'm serious you know! You're not a freak, and you aren't insane!"  
  
"Fine, fine." The blond laughed, shaking his head. "I won't call m'self a freakshow anymore, but can I say one thing, little Chou?"  
  
"Of course. As long as you're not insulting yourself, say what you like." Aizen fluttered in a display of rainbow colors in an attempt to keep warm.  
  
"You are damn cute!" Shinji cooed, laughing even harder.  
  
The miniature man flushed a delicate rose pink from head to foot to wing-tips. "I—I am not cute! Keepers of the Balance are strong, and handsome, and—and—and—" He flushed a little deeper. "...you think I'm cute?"  
  
The blond's infectious, if slightly deranged, grin was back, framed by that pageboy straight blond hair, and topped with eyes that saw entirely too much for a human that age, "Yer adorable!"  
  
Aizen couldn't _really_ argue. His mate thought he was adorable! Sexy would have been better, sure, but he could live with adorable. Except..."I hate to interrupt your ogling, but um...could I ask a favor? Could you grab my clothes and continue this conversation elsewhere? I can't change back to normal here…in public…where anybody can see me. And this far from my Center of Power, I can't cast the kind of glamour necessary to prevent anyone from noticing, I just don't have the strength right now."  
  
"Heh." Feeling more bold than normal, now that the object of his affection was closer to the form his confidants usually took, Shinji quipped, as he climbed to his feet, "Sure. I was about ta head home now anyway."  
  
He made quick work of gathering the items he'd flung about them, though he still blushed furiously when he had to pick up the boxers that had assaulted him during his fall. The task inadvertently put his rear end on display for the insect-sized male to do some ogling of his own.  
  
"I gotta ask though, how come, if yer th' same guy that saved me back then, how come ya never talked back b'fore? Why'd ya wait 'til now ta talk ta me?"  
  
Aizen hesitated for a moment, phrasing his answer delicately—reminding Shinji of his past lives always, without fail, drove the man to suicide. Too much trauma, too much pain. "There have been...extenuating circumstances. And I've been talking to you for quite some time…you just couldn't hear," he said, landing on a thin shoulder.  
  
Seeing as how he was moving around, carrying the change of clothing in his arms, and talking to no one obviously visible to the outside world, Shinji's mood dampened somewhat. He walked quickly, and spoke quietly, "Well, it makes fer some real lonely conversations ya know."  
  
"Oh, I am aware," The butterfly spoke just as softly. So many long, lonely years...he shuddered, but to cover up his reaction he added, "It is damnably cold out here for an insect. Is your place close?"  
  
"Round th' corner. I live 'bove th' book shop we went to that first day after ya met Ikkaku-sensei." Shinji smiled softly, remembering how much fun that had been. Suddenly he laughed again, drawing more than a few curious stares. "So, d'ya always turn inta a caterpillar when yer frightened?"  
  
Aizen flushed again. "Er, no, typically not. In fact, not for...for a very long time. I'm honestly embarrassed I let it happen," he covered his face with one hand.  
  
Abruptly, Shinji's laughter cut off, "Was it somethin' I said?" He dug into his pocket for his keys and popped the lock on the side door, next to the display window of the bookshop.  
  
"Well, yes and no," the butterfly replied. He couldn't lie to his mate. No, he _refused_ to lie to his mate. "Yes, because you startled me. Most emphatically no because it is hardly your fault I allowed myself to lose control to the point I reverted back to a larval stage. That was my own damn fault...and…I'm sorry about this but I can't wait any longer, I'm just too cold," he said, before dashing across his shoulder to his collar and slipping in between fabric and skin, giving an unashamed moan of pure pleasure at the heat of his human, feet tickling and wings a gossamer touch against his flesh.  
  
Shinji squirmed, tickled and other things by the sensation of the small man getting comfortable. He inadvertently whimpered, though it sounded a bit like a moan. "Ah...Chou-san..."  
  
"Yes, Shinji-san?" Snuggling into the curve of his human's neck, and purring internally.  
  
The blond squirmed again, "Yer makin' it real hard fer me ta get m' lock undone." His hand shook as he tried open the door to his apartment.  
  
"Heh, my apologies," Aizen trilled audibly, not sounding a bit sorry. "By the way, might I ask why you call me 'Chou'?"  
  
Getting the door opened, Shinji smirked, "Cuz yer a chou. A butterfly, ne?"  
  
"Naturally, Shinji-san. As a matter of fact, I am the butterfly," the demon said proudly.  
  
And he was, after all. He was Famine, Master of Illusion, and Lord of all creatures that could decimate a human's food supply. Generally that meant insects like locusts and moths, but his connection extended to all vermin and insectoids.  
  
"Is that what ya meant by Center o' Power?" Shinji asked, piling the formerly man-sized brunette's clothing on the corner of the couch and slipping off his shoes.  
  
"Somewhat. My Ley Line and Power Pool to be more specific. It is the place where my magic is gathered and stored until I need it. It is located as part of the Shrine I usually call home in Tokyo." The scent of his mate made the Third's feelers go crazy, trailing up and down behind the blond's ear, much to Shinji's discomfort. A sly smile crossed the small creature's face, "You mentioned a few months ago that your father was Japanese, do you know any of the language?"  
  
"S-some." Shinji stuttered, trying to focus on anything but the electric shocks running through his system at the butterfly's touch.  
  
Aizen immediately switched languages. "Good. I was born there, you know, and someday you will need to come with me to meet the King, because you will always have a friend with me and mine," he promised, entire voice and body practically vibrating with sincerity.  
  
"Whoa! Too fast! I only got 'bout half o' that." But the blond was laughing again. "Jus' cuz I study it don't mean I can speak it all that well. Hell, I've only been takin' official classes since th' start o' th' semester."  
  
"So, that is what you do when I am training with Ikkaku-sensei these days. I had wondered." The brunette shrugged, his wings fluttering so hard with pleasure they created a humming sound tickling the skin of his mate's neck. "No matter, I will be your new tutor. I am one of the smartest minds alive, you know."  
  
Shinji laughed and crossed the living room to light the heater. "Modest much?"  
  
Aizen snorted again. "When you get to my age, modesty becomes naught but a quaint, charming habit. One dropped long ago."  
  
"Oh yeah, THAT really makes me feel better. Not only are ya only eight inches tall, an' a fairy I might add! Yer OLD!" A blush crept across Shinji's ears and cheeks.  
  
"Age is irrelevant to me. Plainly speaking, in human terms I am 'older than dirt'. In the only terms that matter, that of my own body and unique makeup, I am in the prime of my youth and always will be such." There was a small pause. "And I'm not a fairy! I thought we already established, I am a butterfly!"  
  
Shinji laughed again. "We went over this months ago. Yer int'rested in me. That makes ya a fairy." He grinned. "I'm proud ta be a fairy."  
  
Aizen just frowns and scratches his head. "Ohhhh...yes, that altercation with _that one_ about homosexuality." He refused to use the former male student's name since the attempted rape that afternoon, "In that case, yes I am a fairy because yes, I prefer men. I have seen the horrors and cruelty women are capable of."  
  
Moving into the kitchen, the blond gave a shudder about the implications of women. "Fleshy, drippy, bitey, loud...ugh! Give me a cock any day. I know how ta handle one o' them."  
  
"Exactly—oh wait. No, no I recall impregnating a female once. That was enjoyable. She was a terror, but the child was worth it. An adorable daughter. She lived quite a happy life until she expired painlessly as the ripe old age of eighty." He kicked his little, pointed feet, peering out of his mate's shirt collar to watch what was going on. "But that was centuries ago when women weren't quite so loud and vicious. She was a sweet thing except when the baby kicked. Quiet. She helped me realize that calm people bore me to tears."  
  
"Remind me ta never introduce ya ta m'sister." Shinji shuddered again, "Ya wanna talk loud and vicious. Brat beats me over th' head with 'er shoe ev'ry time she sees me."  
  
"Ah, that kind. I'm familiar. Shark female. I do hope she won't be showing up anytime soon?" He phrased the question delicately. He didn't know if he could react intelligently to further abuse of his mate. Not after he _finally_ got him.  
  
"Nah, she's back in Lilly, wi' my mom. That's 'bout..." The blond paused to think about it while running hot water into a coffee pitcher similar to the one that ran the kitchen back at the Shrine. "Two an' a half hours from here. In that d'rection." He pointed.  
  
"Oh good," Aizen breathed. He didn't explain, merely shuddered in a way that Shinji mistook it for a shiver.  
  
"Sorry if things're a little cold fer a few minutes. The heater should warm up the place soon."  
  
The butterfly chittered in an amused tone. "Nnnghiee. I'm fine right where I am until it warms up," he promised, wings fluttering with pleasure as he ducked back down into his mate's shirt.  
  
"Yeah I'm sure ya are, but I can't make coffee with ya tickling my neck like that."  
  
"Coffee can't wait?" The little plaintive voice he used sent a pleased vibration through the spot he'd been tickling before, and Shinji couldn't stop the shiver that ran down his spine.  
  
"If yer gonna stick around in there, could ya at least move to th' left a little, where yer walkin' right now...heh...s'not exactly 'ticklish' but...eh..." The blond blushed as his jeans weren't quite as comfortable anymore.  
  
Aizen started to obey, then the scent of his Shinji rolled over him and instead he planted his 'feet' very firmly right where he is. "And that is a bad thing?"  
  
"B-but..." His mate's breathing picked up a little, "Yer tiny...an'..." And bit his lip as those feelers tickle the back of his ear.  
  
"I know I am. That doesn't mean, Shinji-sama," Aizen purred, using the honorific to play up the difference in their size, and teasing him with his wings as he nearly danced on Shinji's good spot, "that I cannot be the one touching you. Pop your buttons for me?" The request was almost innocent, except he didn't specify which buttons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We, the authors, would like to note that we are not woman-haters in any way shape or form and that it is NOT okay that we live in a culture where rape is something for women to both expect and take measures to avoid. However, it is a fitting punishment for our would-be rapist to be on the other side of the situation for a change. So, our apologies if anyone is offended by the way females are described here. It was not in any way our intention.


	4. The Sounds He Doesn't Make

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guess what, minna, because I feel bad about leaving you hanging for so long this month, YOU GET ANOTHER UPDATE! WOOT! And...IT'S SMUT! XD It's a little outside of our normal yaoi though, because this time we're playing with micro/macro stuff. (e.g. Fairy!Aizen and normal sized Shinji) Is top!Micro even a thing? If it wasn't before I think it is now. Lol. There is also sounding, which if you don't know what that is, Aizen is quite helpful to explain it before it happens. Hee hee! Enjoy! Ja ne!

"I...uh..."  
  
A noise of both arousal and defeat escaped the blond's lips as his hands practically flew to the buttons on his shirt. Delayed pleasure was something he had played with often on his own, and nothing was quite as stimulating as knowing that the one giving him pleasure would be physically incapable of providing the kind of stimulation he would need for a quick climax.  
  
Aizen walked over and around his spot before walking down the skin as it was bared, his little spines making him able to cling to Shinji's skin so he could walk vertically on his body, tickling and teasing all the way.  
  
"Ha...hey...that's..." The words were lost in another noise that was somewhere between moan and whimper.  
  
"That's what, Shinji-sama?" The brunette kept his voice light, like a true inquiry instead of the tease that it was, as he walked right over to his mate's nipple, shoving the fabric away from in front of him.  
  
The human took three steps back, staring at the small creature on his chest, and promptly sat on the beaten up blue couch his mother had helped him salvage from a dumpster on campus. Gripping the cushion as surely as though he'd been restrained, he whimpered, "Yer not playin' fair."  
  
"Playing fair? But, Shinji-sama...I'm a Demon. As far as my kind is concerned, all is fair when it comes to games of seduction."  
  
Aizen's tone was as innocent as he could manage. Then, kneeling before the nipple like a supplicant before an altar, he bent forward to begin sucking at it, translucent wings arching above him.  
  
"Nyah!" The blond shivered all over at touch, having only ever played with himself all of the sensations were new, and thus, quickly making his already uncomfortable jeans more so.  
  
Aizen licked and sucked until it was all wet and peaked, then fluttered to the other nipple and repeated the process, bouncing back and forth between the two until his mate was mewling at the tiny puffs of breath that were his respiration in this form.  
  
Digging his toes into the carpet, and his fingers into the couch, Shinji's chin tucked to his chest so he could at least watch what the more experienced creature was doing to him. His shirt wide open, and the zipper of his jeans bulging up almost painfully, he was breathless, "Ya...gonna do that...th' whole time?"  
  
The butterfly's eyes glinted, small though he was. "I was only waiting on you," he purred, before he darted down to his mate's straining zipper, grabbed it, and yanked until it was gaping open. "Undo your button and pull yourself out," he ordered, commanding for all that he was eight inches tall and the blond could easily squash him like the bug he was.  
  
Strangely compelled, Shinji quickly did so, gasping a little as the air touched his length. He blushed deeper under the demon's admiration as it had a crook almost a full fifteen degrees to the right, but hard as steel and thick with a highly sensitive vein snaking from blond curls to the lip of swollen head.  
  
Aizen traced the vein with one hand from top to bottom before perching very precisely on the head, able to cling thanks to his feet. He then traced the slit with the very tip of one foot, wings fluttering from time to time as his supporting foot slipped a little in the sticky-slick precome.  
  
"Nngh~!" Shinji moaned, once again spell-bound by the pleasure coursing through his body, and his dick twitched violently.  
  
The brunette chuckled at him, and, with the most delicate of careful movements, he gently dipped his foot _into_ Shinji's slit as far as he could. With a wriggle and a twist, using the pre to his advantage, he managed to get it in halfway up his calf.  
  
The blond's eyes went wide, and he gasped, that made for all kinds of sparks to go off in his mind and he practically vibrated resisting the urge to buck his hips. Around the butterfly's foot, a fat droplet welled up and out.  
  
In response, Aizen gave it another twist to let him feel the soft, flexible spines, and slowly pulled his foot out, wings fluttering hard to get a little extra leverage. When it popped free, he actually did so with such force it was like a cork popping from a bottle, causing him to tumble into the air, where his whirring wings managed to save him.  
  
Between the twist and the force of the pop, Shinji cried out with another violent twitch and he actually had to grasp the base of his shaft to keep from going off right then. "Y-you...yer good..." He panted, trying to calm down at least a little.  
  
"Why thank you. And here I thought my skills would be rusty after all this time." The demon fluttered back to his cock, and walked down it to the base to alight on his hand, leaving sticky, circular 'footprints' over the back to his knuckles. "Might I ask why you stopped yourself?"  
  
There was no disappointment in his voice, only curiosity and interest, so Shinji complied with a panted answer. It was obvious just because he'd stopped his climax, didn't mean he wasn't right on the edge of it. "S'all...always better...higher...when I stop it a couple o' times."  
  
"Ah. And you appreciate the finer points of this, I assume." The minuscule man walked up to his mate's wrist and perched there. By now, his little leaf loincloth was starting to dry out, and it cracked when he sat down. He got irritated and pushed at it, but it only broke more.  
  
"I've had m'fair share of knowin' what I c'n do ta make it better. That's how it works when all ya've got is yerself fer this stuff." Catching his breath now, Shinji quirked an eyebrow, and raised his other hand as though he was going to fondle his scrotum. However, as he reached down, he flicked his thumb out and caught the back of the loincloth, smirking a bit as the dry vine snapped.  
  
Aizen was surprised at the boldness of the move, but stood and gave his hips a sensuous little shake. This let the remains of the leaf fall from his body, putting his own hard length on display. Of course, being as he was so small, it was equally small, but it was...fairly large in proportion to his body. In his usual form, of being six foot three, he was nine inches. Now, at eight inches tall, he was about half an inch.  
  
False confidence was Shinji's entire bag, but being called on it, especially with an obviously more experienced partner, it always faltered. So, the blond blushed again, from his nose to his navel, a delicate pink that made almost invisible freckles stand out against his skin. He literally had no idea where to go from there, and was terrified he'd do something wrong; make the wonderful creature go away. So, all he could do was massage the triangle of muscle below his cock slowly with the fingers of his left hand.  
  
The butterfly came up his body—stalking, strutting really, showing off his stuff as a bird might display in order to entice a mate. His muscles rippled, his wings shimmered. And despite being so small, he managed to look suave and powerful—deliberately stepping on those delicious freckles and skipping from dot to dot, showing off his agility. When he got to his mate's collarbone, he leaned up and kissed his mouth, softly, right in the middle of his lower lip.  
  
"Such a sweet creature. So responsive. So beautiful. Stupid humans, not knowing what an angel has been dwelling in their midst."  
  
"S-somehow...I think ya have been watchin' me...f-for a reason." The blond was trembling a bit now, though the uncertainty in his eyes was obviously not affecting how aroused he was, and goose-bumps broke out over his skin when he licked his lips, there was _something_ in that kiss.  
  
"Such talk is not for now," Aizen replied, quickly. "Now is for talk of more erotic subjects. Like how your pre-come tastes like sugar. And how I can hardly wait to taste your climax, but I know patience pays off. For now, I plan on...other endeavors if you don't mind."  
  
"Uh...ok...?" Shinji blinked, an eyebrow twitching a little as a flash of concern almost stole what little confidence he had. "I...uh...I've never done this stuff with...uh...anyone else before...is that ok?"  
  
The demon's entire body stilled before his wings turned promptly deep purple—the color of 'mating lust'. His voice was deep, and his eyes were dilated. "Fuck yes that's okay. That's better than okay. That is absolutely _amazing._ "  
  
A smile tugged the corners of Shinji's mouth, and a nervous giggle came out as half moan. He swallowed, a taste on the air that was the same _something_ that had given him goose-bumps. "Wh-what do you want me to d-do?"  
  
Aizen wrestled with himself for control. King-damn-it! Willing AND virginal?! He wished could turn back to full size in an instant, but as he stated before he really was too far from his Ley Line to complete such a transformation without sleeping and he really didn't want to wait any longer.  
  
When he'd managed to get himself back under control marginally, he coughed. "If you don't mind me going a couple of odd places, I'd like you to turn onto your stomach."  
  
"Uh...it'd be more comfortable if I laid on the bed, if ya don't mind?" Shinji was so compelled with wanting to please his new-demonic lover that the fact that he could manhandle the tiny creature never even crossed the poor virgin's mind.  
  
"Of course I don't mind. I want you to be comfortable." The butterfly lifted off, wings a purple smear in the air with an edge of rainbow. The visible signal that his lust was just barely under control.  
  
The blond stood, getting a nose full of that dust. His pupils dilated and his breathing picked up again. He made another of those unconscious noises somewhere between a whimper and a moan, then stumbled to the bedroom, leaving skinny jeans, shirt and boxers on the floor.  
  
"On m' belly right?" He asked, crawling up on the bed in a way that was tantalizing without realizing it.  
  
The purple edged out the rainbow for a moment before Aizen again wrestled himself back under control. "Y-yes. Get fully comfortable."  
  
Shinji blinked at the sheets for a moment, before doing just that, and with his hands under his chest, turned his head to look over his shoulder at the butterfly. "Ok...?  
  
The demon landed on his tailbone, wings folding down along his back in a way that should've been physically impossible. Insect wings didn't bend like that. "Are you comfortable with me touching your entrance and the surrounding areas? I'm not going to go there if you don't want me to," he promised.  
  
"I...uh..." The blond's blush deepened, "I don't mind." He immediately thought of the toys under the edge of the bed, and his eyes drifted over the edge of the bed in an unconscious tell.  
  
Aizen made a mental note—such things were beyond him at his current size. Wait, maybe it wasn't..."Kindly retrieve them."  
  
"R-re…what?" Shinji squeaked.  
  
He hadn't spoken. He was sure of it! Blinking a few times, he reached for the shoebox anyway. Once on the bed, he took the top off, displaying several different shaped vibrators, three plugs in gradually larger sizes, and a collection of lubricants in every flavor from mint to strawberry, warming, tingling, cooling, numbing, and each one had a liberal amount missing from it. However, everything was impeccably clean; spotless even. He hadn't thought his blush could get redder.  
  
"I...uh...like to play...it...uh...helps me fall asleep..."  
  
"Oh, I am not judging you. I merely wish you to use these…I believe honey lubrication would be preferred, and I'd like to see how you use that angled vibrator," The tiny man urged gently. "Being the size I am, I cannot do it myself, nor can I physically satisfy you. These are adequate substitutes."  
  
"Oh..."  
  
Sitting up carefully so as not to knock the butterfly from his back, the blond took the lavender colored device and bottle of golden-yellow slick out of the box, then closed the lid again to set it off the bed for safety. He knew just how wild he got with that rounded hook vibrating against his prostate—it was one of his favorites. There, however, he hesitated, for though he knew exactly what to do with said toys, doing it front of someone else was something entirely new.  
  
"D-do ya want me ta just go at it?"  
  
The butterfly contemplated for a moment, "Whatever you feel comfortable with. I could tell you my reactions to what I see you do, if you'd like. Or you could pretend I'm not here."  
  
"Well...there's...uh..." A thought crossed the blond's mind, "Have ya watched me b'fore?"  
  
"I can't say I have," the butterfly replied truthfully. Previous lives never did such activities, and until very recently he wasn't able to watch over him from other countries.  
  
"Oh." Somehow Shinji was rather disappointed about that. "Then...um...go sit on th' table an' I'll show ya..." He blushed furiously through his attempt at being seductive.  
  
The brunette dutifully flew to the table, sat on the edge, and crossed his legs at the 'ankles', watching avidly, wings still purple. "You are truly beautiful, you know. I already feel you're going to give an... _astonishingly_ arousing show," he purred, voice infused with a tingle-creating seduction.  
  
Shinji rolled over to his back and closed his eyes, bringing up his favorite fantasy. There was a man, tall, dark, mysterious, who brought him into the bedroom, laid him down with a whisper of affection in that husky, almost bass not-voice that had saved his life fifteen years ago. Taking the lube in hand, the fantasy continued, the man in his dreams slicking his fingers, made all the more potent because of the scent of wildflowers under the flavoring that made it taste like honey. The blond bit his lip, arching his back as he slipped a finger inside himself. He didn't dare touch his cock this soon. The teasing earlier made him more responsive than usual, and a moan broke past his trapped lip. He ran his other hand down his body, fingers twitching to touch himself, but he resisted.  
  
Behind his eyelids the man whispered, _'Not yet, hold it back, you can do it.'_  
  
A second finger joined the first and it brought his hips completely off the bed, his other hand gripping the vibrator for stability that was impossible as the proud length above him drooled and reached for stimulation he refused to give it. His heels dug into the bed, and his scissoring took on a more frantic pace, the tiny bit of pain just adding to his already sky-high arousal.  
  
Within his mind, the voice said, _'You want me to put it in? Beg me for it. Tell me how hot you are.'_  
  
"Uhn...puh-please..." Shinji whimpered, thoroughly wrapped within his fantasy.  
  
 _'Tell me more, pretty boy.'_  
  
"F-fuck me...puh-please...So...Ahn!" The blond writhed.  
  
He pulled his hand from within himself and inserted the vibrator in almost a single move, turning it on immediately, as though being punished or rewarded for what he was doing. His cock darkened, and his hips bucked back against the silicon in his hand. At this point, the blond deliberately shattered his vision, and turned to the night table with lusty eyes so dark they were almost black.  
  
"T-talk to m-me...?" He pleaded.  
  
 _"You are doing so well",_ Aizen purred, not-voice vibrating the very being and reality around them. _"Sweet. Sweet as the honey you're using. Your hole is taking that toy like I'm sure you want to take my cock. Don't you, Shinji?"_  
  
The blond's eyelids fluttered, "Oh...oh yesss..."  
  
He ran his thumb along the control, taking it higher, and grinding down against it. Still he didn't touch himself. He hadn't been told he was allowed, not yet. What was left of his mind chanted, 'almost, not yet, wait 'til he says to' over and over with every thrust, in spite of the glistening sugar running along that vein because of the angle.  
  
 _"I want to see you hold yourself back again,"_ the butterfly told him. _"I want to see you arch and whine as you deny yourself release. And most of all, when I do allow you to come, I want to come with you. I cannot fill you with my honey, not as I am now, not the way I want to…but…but after your next false peak I've got a special treat for you."_  
  
Shinji nodded shakily, his hand coming up to grip the base of his cock like he did before. Just the touch of his fingers to the sensitive flesh brought that pseudo-climax the demon wanted, and a high keening whine accompanied the way his body made an almost perfect half-circle, twitching and vibrating. Somehow in his haze, the blond kept the toy slamming into his prostate, and just as an extra tease, because he always did that to himself, he forced the vibrations to their max. This brought another howling whine, sunny hair tangling as his head thrashed from side to side, biting his lip.  
  
Aizen let him writhe for a few moments, and when he began to calm down, Aizen gave a soft command. _"Enough. Calm yourself so you are able to remove your hand."_  
  
His mate whimpered again, breathing heavily, rolling to the side so that he was facing the nightstand, his dripping, pulsing length millimeters from touching the blanket. Pleading in his eyes, he bit his lip harder, the pain helping to bring him back from the brink. Again he massaged that triangle, the extra sensations giving him enough of a focus so he could fully let go of his cock again, though the red-purple of denied release stayed, making the flesh look angry and ready to explode. The rubbing continued as he drew his hand back, across his hip, and then down his thigh in an obviously well-practiced move.  
  
 _"I want you to return to your back,"_ the soft not-voice echoed, _"I am going to use my small size to my advantage, Shinji. Do you know what 'sounding' is?"_  
  
All the 23-yr-old could do was shake his head as he complied with the orders, spreading himself and watching the butterfly with equal parts anticipation and begging.  
  
The smaller creature came drifting over as on a breeze, and landed once again on top of his cock. _"Sounding, my dear, lovely Shinji, is the term used to describe the insertion of things into the urethra for sexual pleasure. It is also a medical procedure, but that does not apply to what I intend to do."_ He straddled the glans carefully, scooping pre-come off of it and slicking his own dick.  
  
His breathing catching in his chest as that something accompanied the creature's movements, Shinji blinked, watching, his tongue snaking out to lick his lips. Aizen positioned himself, and looked his mate in the face as he eased into his slit, watching for signs of discomfort. The touch, the newness of it, had the blond closing his eyes with another of those whining moans.  
  
"M...gonna..." The blond breathed deeply, several deliberately controlled breaths. "That's..." Another breath. "Wow..."  
  
"Yes. Wow." The demon petted the taut flesh as he hilted, pausing to let the other adjust.  
  
"I hope...yer...that it won't...Mmph...not gonna..." Shinji couldn't get his sentences to stick together, but desperately hoped that the other knew just how close he was. Two denied releases without a ring to hold him back? He'd be lucky if he lasted long enough for the butterfly to start moving.  
  
Aizen seemed to understand implicitly, because when he spoke, his voice was soothing, and calming, "Shinji. Can you hold back without your hand? Long enough for me to spill my honey into you?"  
  
"I...c'n...try..." The human breathed, closing his eyes.  
  
That felt so good! His toes curled into the sheets, and he held as still as he could possibly manage. Any change on his end and he'd be undone, with nothing he could do about it. So, he gave the tiny creature the hottest, most desperate look yet, and nodded.  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
The butterfly was already walking a fine edge himself from watching his mate, and when he began to move he lasted a pitiful handful of thrusts—four rolls of his hips and he was clutching Shinji's cockhead and injecting his seed into it.  
  
OH that! The blond's eyes rolled back into his head, and he groaned, breathing deeply through his nose. He had to get breath, had to be able to ask, to beg for release. He just couldn't seem to find the words in the mush that his mind had become.  
  
 _"Come for me,"_ Aizen snarled the order, wanting to see his love completely spent.  
  
Fireworks didn't even begin to describe that all-consuming wave of pleasure as Shinji came harder than he ever had before, the lava-like eruption from his slit enough force to knock the butterfly from his perch. A hand flew to his shaft to milk out the waves, and every breath was a throaty, desperate sound, as the translucent white fluid poured down onto his hand and then to the bed.  
  
The demon was drawn to that fluid, that nectar, and corrected himself mid-air to dart back and begin lapping at it, wing colors swirling purple and green in pleasure and contentment. Blearily watching the butterfly was almost enough to spur on a second round, but as his wits began to come back to him, Shinji frowned.  
  
"Ya never answered me 'bout the reason ya watched ov'r me." His voice was slurred with afterglow.  
  
"Didn't I? My apologies. I'll tell you when you wake up," Aizen promised, fluttering up to kiss his nose, tiny chin coated in the human's release. "Right now, you're tired and deserve to enjoy your afterglow, and the sweet, sweet relaxation that can only come in the wake of an orgasm."  
  
His wing-dust went drifting over the human to reinforce his soothing words and silky voice. This was a topic he really wasn't comfortable discussing, and the longer he could enjoy this blissful paradise the better, even if it meant his soul's mate would be sleeping most of the time.  
  
"Are ya...ya...gonna...l-leave?"  
  
Shinji couldn't keep his eyes open, slipping into sleep filled with that elusive man, the same one that used that non-voice, and was the object of all of his fantasies. He was the reason the blond was obsessed with butterflies, and now, this strange creature that could speak in that same voice had evidently been impersonating his classmate for a year and a half. If he hadn't already been mind-blown by the orgasm, the blond would have lost his sanity right then.  
  
 _"Don't be ridiculous,"_ the demon soothed, not-voice proving the truth of his words, though his mate couldn't possibly know that, _"I will never leave you, nor be far from you. I never have and I never will."_ He pet Shinji's face, tucking his hair behind his ears before fluttering to the bedside table.  
  
Instantly the sleeping human relaxed, a smile curling his mouth and he mumbled, as he often did at this stage of slumber, "I love ya, So."  
  
 _"And I love you, Shinji,"_ Sousuke replied, voice thick with tears he refused to shed. He had cried himself out long ago. _"I have loved you for a thousand centuries and I will continue to love you to the ends of the Abyss itself."_  
  
He swallowed the lump in his throat and busied himself with cleaning his feelers. The sensation was always so distracting it quieted his busy mind.            

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are finally caught up here! That means two things, 1. all of you are on the same page as the rest of our readers on the other sites, and 2. you have to wait until next week for the next chapter. Kekekeke! >:3
> 
> Also, I make no apologies for my punny sense of humor. XD


	5. He'll be Your Remedy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the impromptu hiatus, RL well and truly did me under for a little while. I debated putting this up for Grimm/Ichi Day but decided against it because they aren't our main pairing here. Hope everyone's was excellent. And I'm sorry this is so short. I need to come up with a cover image for part 5, but I'll put up the first chapter as soon as I've got one. Enjoy! Ja ne!

Sunlight streamed through the tattered blinds, glinting off of hair the same color, as it slid over the pale eyelids beneath until they fluttered open. Immediately the first thing Shinji was aware of was the vibrator still in his ass. He whimpered as he pulled it out, and dove for the bathroom to clean up, completely missing the person sitting on his couch until after he exited once again. Then he caught sight of the over six foot tall humanoid with the huge gossamer wings sitting seiza at his coffee table reading his psychology book.

"Uh...?"

Aizen had propped his chin on his hand when Shinji went dashing by, and smiled beautifully at him. "Good morning, Shinji."

The blond snagged a towel from the bathroom behind him to hold in front of himself. "Uh...mornin'? Did...uh...are you...um?"

"Surely you haven't forgotten last night?" The butterfly was still in his demonic form, point-tipped feet in clear view behind him. "I am able to adjust my size, if that's what you were wondering. I did promise not to leave."

"So..." Shinji blinked several times and looked around the room, "Uh...not that I didn't enjoy it er nothin' but...ya promised me ya'd tell me why ya were watchin' me this mornin'...an' I don' us'ally do that...I mean...I've never done that...I don't know if ANYone outside o' hentai has ever done that." He blushed lightly.

The brunette chuckled softly, but he was a bit nervous. Usually, this was when things began going downhill with his mate. "Well, much as it may seem like the plot of a bad yaoi, it happened. And I did promise." Putting the book aside, he rose to his feet and offered his mate a deep bow. "As you already know my name is Aizen Sousuke, and I am..." He paused to gather his nerve. "I am Famine, Third Horseman under The King of Souls."

Shinji rubbed his head, "Why's that sound familiar? Not yer name o' course, but the rest of it."

"Please don't think on it too hard," Aizen replied, but really he was pleading.

Somehow, his mate never quite was able to properly assimilate his other Lives. It drove him mad, every time. The brunette tended to attribute it to the high amount of lives in which he was abused, or died violently and young, accumulated life-traumas making it impossible for him to remember without suffering acute shellshock and either dying from that, or being driven insane by the pain in the memories and committing suicide.

"No, it's like..." The blond shook his head, coming over to the couch and plopping down, frowning. "See there's this voice. In my head. My whole life, he's been there. Would warn me away from people sometimes. An' I asked him once what his name was, but all I could hear was 'So'. Was that you?"

The taller male was hesitant, but not unforthcoming, "Of course. After Gin began calling me 'So-So' many years ago, I found myself becoming fond of the nickname. And of course, that voice is mine. As I said I have watched over you for a long time, even when I was not physically or mentally with you."

"So...heh…gonna hafta change how I say stuff er yer always gonna think I'm sayin' yer name." Shinji smiled. He let his eyes trail over the wings, and feelers, a soft contemplative look crossing his mind. "I don't know if ya can help me with this but since ya obviously aren't human maybe ya can give me the answers nobody else could. I had this dream when I was little, 'bout bein' surrounded by people tryin' ta kill me. I had some kinda weapon er somethin' an' was swingin' it 'round when all of a sudden there's this flap of wings an' this thing falls on me. I can't see what it is, but I know I'm warm, an' that the people tryin' ta kill me can't get to me. But in the dream fer some reason I was fightin' to get out from under it, an' I remember thinkin' how stupid that was cuz there wasn't nothin' wrong with bein' held, 'specially when th' one holdin' me was protectin' me. But, the wings...they looked just like yers."

He reached out to touch one, almost afraid that they'd dissolve into nothing. Surprisingly, they held under his touch, depositing a thick layer of dust onto his hand where it touched. Aizen's eyes closed. First, because his mate was touching his wings and giving him goose-bumps. Second, he did remember that memory. He remembered that  _battle_ , his wings torn to shreds, his body rent in two, and his mate dying, impaled on the end of a—

His eyes flew open and he swallowed. "Yes, I-I…I know the...the dream. It is...an old nightmare...of mine. I must have...have accidentally shared it with you."

Oh, this was not good. Everything in him rebelled against lying to his mate. Even this partial-truth was much too close to outright lying to his mate and it showed. Damn his stutter!

"I didn't think it worked that way." Shinji shivered. "I knew ya b'fore. Didn't I?" He didn't let the other answer. "In my studies of my Dad's culture I read something. I know about the cycle of rebirth thing, an' that ev'rybody's lived at least once b'fore. It's...been somethin' of a comfort...knowin' that my soul must be old. Otherwise why wouldn't anybody like me? They could pro'ly sense I'd lived b'fore them. Made them scared o' me, but it's ok, cuz I had ya. I'd go ta that field an' it didn't matter what had happened at school, cuz ya where there, all year 'round, rain, snow er shine. So, near as I can figure we must've had some kinda connection in a past life...maybe more than one."

Aizen's wings began to stain a deep, deep blue, streaked with yellow—worry with deep pangs of alarm. "You have, but…don't go remembering them! Your soul is…it's  _too_ old," he attempted to explain. "When a soul as old as yours remembers all its previous reincarnations, bad things happen. It is a terrible thing to have so many memories overwhelm your current sense of self. It is painful and causes insanity." His feelers curled inward protectively, as did his legs as his arms came around them, trying to make himself as small as possible without actually changing sizes. "It is...equally painful to watch. So please,  _meine Shinji_ , don't try to remember."

The blond shrugged, giving a carefree grin. "The past isn't important. I live fer t'day. Fer the moment. It's how I get through shit like high school."

The butterfly blinked at him. He looked completely nonplussed for a long moment, then a smile that seemed to shine with sunlight and pure joy broke across his face and he unwound from his ball to pounce on his mate.

" _Wie habe ich jemals so glücklich? Wie konnte jemand wie ich eine so große Geschenk als diese gegeben werden? Ich liebe dich, mein Shinji, und…und, wenn ich nicht, dich zu verlieren, werde ich mein Lob an die jemals zum Teufel hat diese verursacht zu geben…dieses Wunder für mich, und es ist nicht ein kleines Wunder entweder!"_ He held the blond to his chest, kissing him over and over.

No idea why he was being kissed and cuddled, but going with it, Shinji laughed. "I have no clue what ya just said but if this is th' kind o' boyfriend yer gonna be then I might hafta fig're out how ta trigger it more often."

Aizen sat up, straddling his waist and grinning. "Oh that is easy, you simply have to be you. That is all I need."

He then kissed him again, wings fluttering for a moment before something internally set off a chiming alarm. His internal clock.

"Ah, it is time for class. I believe this morning is Psychology, yes? A quiz, if I remember correctly, on Freud. And people say we demons are obsessed with sex." The brunette shook his head, incredulously.

"AH! I didn't do any studyin'!" Shinji dashed into the bedroom to get dressed. "Next time ya decide ta pounce me, make sure I get my homework done first!" He called.

"I will keep it in mind," The butterfly called. "Oh...if you hear my voice telling you answers on the test, ignore it. That's my demonic nature attempting to make sure my— _freund_ ," he changed the word at the last second, using one he was sure Shinji wouldn't translate properly, "shares all the knowledge I have. However, it won't make sure you actually know it, which is not helpful."

"Uh huh..." Shinji returned dressed in jeans and a shirt similar to the one still in the middle of his living room floor. "I'll do my best." Then he checked the time. "Those wings o' yers...they don't actually work do they? Like...could ya get us 'cross campus in five minutes?"

"Of course they work, and naturally I can get across campus…in  _far_ less than five minutes," Aizen said, standing up with a look of playful arrogance crossing his handsome features. "Brace yourself," he advised as he opened the door and took his mate in his arms. Then he Flitted, and a split second later was leaning Shinji against the wall right outside his classroom.

The blond looked around, and smirked, "Good, cuz that gives me time ta do this."

He wrapped his arms around Aizen's neck, pulling the taller man into a steamy kiss, right in front of what was left of Ginjou's gang; the lanky second-in-command with the freaky sunglasses, and a few of the other thugs who'd followed the football player. The fullback-turned-female was nowhere to be found, but that probably had to do with the fact that she still remembered and thought of herself as a male, in spite of the memories of everyone else around her having been altered to fit her new gender. Well, everyone else, except Shinji, but he was so wrapped up in enjoying his new boyfriend that she barely crossed his mind. More importantly, he prayed that what they saw was the tall, impossibly handsome, senior who was the captain of the Jujutsu team, not the stunningly, gorgeous demon that was his true form.

For a second, just one mere split instant, the illusion faltered from shock, but then Aizen was kissing back—and yes, all the others saw the transfer student he'd been for the last year and a half. The strange creature must have just been a trick of the light. But the brunette was picking Shinji up, holding him underneath the thighs as he kissed him back passionately. He had his mate. No, they hadn't performed the Marking ceremony yet, but that could come with time. Give the blond human a chance to parade the brunette around in his world for a while, before enveloping him in the affairs of the Court. The butterfly was well-enough ahead of his work to afford a decade or two off if that's what it took to keep his key this time around.

It was much, much later when thin fingers walked across the sculpted planes of a bronzed chest, using each 'step' as a tease. Smoldering, lust-filled brown eyes framed by straw-straight blond hair topped a pierced tongue that flicked out to lick over thin lips. The assailant pulled himself up the athletic torso of his lover with a human purr.

"So-so...d'ya know what day it is?"

The demon he lay on top of opened one eye with a little grin. "Hmmm, no, blondie. Pray tell…is it a human holiday today?" He teased. He knew damn well what day it was and he knew his lover knew it. But it was fun to play pretend.

Shinji giggled, "Silly Chou! One year ago today ya rescued me from that bakamono Gin-joke."

His hands were just about to dive underneath the pajama bottoms his lover wore for an early morning wake-up call when there was an electrio-static fizzle and something black and white bounced off of the wall near the door to land in a heap of limbs like he'd been shot out of a cannon. The blond sat bolt upright, clutching the blankets to his chest in spite of the tee-shirt he wore.

Aizen bolted upright as well, and breathed, "Qio."

The butterfly was frozen in shock for a second before dashing to his comrade, untangling the long limbs and wings and tail. The bat demon moaned in pain, struggling until he was all straightened out, eyes wide and...frightened. They were so bright, even bordering on  _terrified_.

"We need you."

Aizen held his shoulders. "What? Qio—"

"We need you! We need you, we need you  _now_ , So! You're the eldest! You have the Knowledge we need!  _We need you!_ "

Aizen was taken aback by his vehemence—and by the repetition. Ulquiorra, repeating himself like this, he was thoroughly frightened and disturbed. Something was seriously wrong.

Shinji's hand flew to the side of his head, and he winced, a sudden pain shooting through his temples like the driving of an ice pick. "Y-ya hafta...h'help 'em, So-so." He panted. "Dunno what's wrong...but...AH! Ya gotta...gotta go!"

Aizen looked between the two for a moment, both in pain, before he fluttered to his mate and held his face in his hands. "But...you're hurting. How can I..."

"It's First, Ai," Ulquiorra whimpered.

Aizen's body jerked as though he'd been hit. "I...I will return swiftly. I promise, mate."

"Take me wit'cha." Shinj said suddenly. "I c'n help...I think..."

He frowned, rubbing his temple. It was strange, like a dream, snippets of something filtered into his mind. Blue hair, and claws, and something to do with saving a unicorn or chimera? He wasn't sure, but he felt in his heart if he went to this place he could clear away the fog.

Aizen was hesitant. That much magic could lead to...dangerous things. "But you…"

"There isn't time!" Death cried. "We need you  _now_ , he comes!"

"Ngh, FINE," the brunette growled.

The butterfly reached out and ripped open a portal. It would be faster than the Demon Flit and easier on his human mate. Picking up Shinji, blanket and all, and cradling him tenderly, he stepped through, Ulquiorra right on his heels.

**End Part 4**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> "Wie habe ich jemals so glücklich? Wie konnte jemand wie ich eine so große Geschenk als diese gegeben werden? Ich liebe dich, mein Shinji, und…und, wenn ich nicht, dich zu verlieren, werde ich mein Lob an die jemals zum Teufel hat diese verursacht zu geben…dieses Wunder für mich, und es ist nicht ein kleines Wunder entweder!"
> 
> \- "How did I ever get so lucky? How could one such as I be given so great a gift as this? I love you, my Shinji, and…and if I don't have to lose you, I will give my praise to whoever the fuck has caused this…this miracle for me, and it is not a small miracle either!" (German)
> 
> Freund
> 
> \- friend, generally assumed term for boyfriend meaning a homosexual relationship, like aibou in Japanese (German)


End file.
